Side Effect 3: Fire From Olympus
by Psychopithicus
Summary: One-shot. Side-fic to Bezold Effect, contains minor spoilers. Tina, a street urchin from Ilios, is less-than-willing to care about the latest adoptive family she finds herself forced to live with. A group viewing of the annual Summer Games, however, may be what it takes to start changing her mind.


**Hello, all. With the Summer Games event approaching its final week-and-a-half, I figured now would be a good time to break out a quick story that (loosely) ties into it. Not much to say beyond that, so I hope you enjoy!**

 **Side Effect #3: Fire From Olympus**

Diamantina—Tina for short—curled herself beneath a mountain of bed sheets, squeezing her eyes as shut as she could manage and gritting her teeth in frustration. She wanted to be anywhere but here right now, and she certainly didn't want to be awake.

Most people idolized Overwatch, heaping piles of praise upon them for their heroic deeds. Most people would bow in worship of the great soldiers if they ever found themselves graced by their presence. And, of course, who could forget that most people her age had grown up staring at their demands for enlistment with eyes matched in size only by those of a deer in the headlights.

Tina, however, had nothing but complaints and criticisms of the mighty Overwatch. Controlling others, even people as free-spirited as her, seemed to be in their blood. They enforced useless policies for actions as simple as eating and sleeping, and she was expected to kowtow to every order like a mindless dog. There was no independence here, only loyalty. And she loathed it.

She longed for her past, where things were simpler. She longed for the days when she and her fellowship of child thieves, all brought up by the same corrupt art collector in Ilios, would pull off the most daring heists and revel in the rush of adrenaline. She longed for the days when the old man of the house paid her no mind, allowing her and her comrades to do as they pleased (provided, of course, they did nothing to anger him). She longed for the days when she could live her life by whatever rules she chose, associating with whomever she chose, and carrying out whatever plans and whims she chose.

But Overwatch had judged her old life unworthy of their perfect world. They arrested the art collector, carted Tina and her friends off to separate foster homes, and expected them to live forever after as happy little schoolchildren. They had taken away her life—her _freedom_ —and she could never forgive them for it.

And, yet, she was expected to.

"Tina! For goodness' sake, _get up_! You should've been up an hour ago!"

The street urchin groaned, bundling herself even tighter. The old hag was at it again, butting her nose in where it wasn't wanted and claiming to be doing Tina a favor. Yes, Overwatch gave her food and a place to sleep, but that was it. She had nothing to do with them beyond that.

Judging by the sudden opening of her room's door, however, they thought otherwise.

"Tina!" snapped Ana Amari, fury dominating her one good eye as she stormed into the girl's bedroom. "Come _on_!"

"Oh, come on, piss off for once!" Tina groaned, burying herself further in the bed.

Ana's response was to dig a hand through the covers and seize Tina's ear between her fingers.

"You're coming to this meeting whether you like it or not!" Overwatch's sniper said firmly, literally dragging Tina out of the bed and onto the floor. The thief's gear—a quarterstaff, bolas with tasers on the ends, and a few small mines with a sloppily-painted red cross on top—were left behind as Ana pulled her out of the room.

"What the hell, hag?! Get off!" Tina grumbled, punching and kicking as much as her tired body would allow. "I don't care about your stupid meetings!"

"If you're going to live here, you need to earn your keep," Ana replied sternly. "Much as I'd prefer to not have you out in the field, you can't just freeload off of us. You need to do _something_ around here."

"I don't give a shit what you think! Let go of my ear!"

"And watch your language!" Ana barked.

"You don't give a damn when everyone else swears!" Tina protested.

"That's because they're responsible adults who use the privilege more sparingly and appropriately than you seem keen on doing," Ana shot back. "Now, I want you to sit _quietly_ and _listen_ in this meeting. If you can't eat snacks responsibly, you won't be allowed any food outside of mealtime."

Tina opened her mouth to unleash another baleful retort, but Ana pulled her through a doorway and into a wider room before she could make a sound. The current agents of the reborn Overwatch sat at the table, observing a holographic model of planet Earth. Winston, the gorilla who initiated the recall and thus headed the vigilante force, stood at the head of the table. Genji, the green cyborg ninja (whom Tina was willing to admit to disliking the least out of his peers), shot the two women a nod. Reinhardt, the massive German knight, folded his arms and grinned. Tracer, the British pilot, sent Tina a wave.

"Morning, love!" Tracer said cheerfully.

"Bite me," Tina spat, earning an elbow to the side from Ana.

"Now that our sleepyhead is here, I believe it's time for us to get started," Ana ventured. "Winston?"

The ape nodded and tapped a button on the table, changing the hologram from an image of the world to a three-dimensional diagram of a building. Ana lightly pushed Tina forward, and with a harrumph, the street thief plopped herself in the seat closest to Genji.

"Now, then," Winston began. "As you can see, Athena has given us…"

Tina dearly wished the chair she sat in was big enough to be a bed.

She had not agreed to any of this. She wanted nothing to do with Overwatch's operations, or the endless lectures that seemed to precede the tiniest events. Looking to head for the restroom? No one was to leave without first hearing every detail about the lavatories, regardless of whether or not such details were actually necessary. Why was she even _here_ , anyway?

Oh…wait…the free food. And the bed. Those were actually not bad. Unfortunately, she had to put up with the grandmother from hell and her zoo of dictators, just to have those basic things. No wonder people had left Overwatch before.

"…we've also received word that someone new will be joining us," Winston went on and on as if people cared what he had to say. "We've met her before, in Russia: one Aleksandra 'Zarya' Zaryanova. I'm told she was requested to join us by Katya Volskaya herself, so let's do our best to make her feel like Overwatch is worth her time."

Tina snorted. They certainly weren't worth _her_ time.

"All right, that about covers things!" Winston declared. "Any questions?"

"Ooh, I got one!" Tracer raised a hand. Tina rolled her eyes; they were going to make this meeting take hours longer than it needed to, weren't they? "Zarya seemed a little put-off by the idea of cybernetics the last time we met her. How should we get her to accept…"

She trailed off, glancing at Genji out of the corner of her eye.

"Well…we'll cross that bridge when we get to it," Winston answered. "We'll explain that every one of our team members is trusted and valued, cybernetics or not, and ask her to give the distrusted party a chance. Anyone else?"

Reinhardt chimed in. Then Ana. Then Tracer again. Then Tracer a third time, seemingly just for the fun of it. Tina slid down her chair, teeth grinding in sheer annoyance. She had to _stay_ here, while these idiots talked for hours on end about _nothing_. And they expected her to be a perfect little angel, serene and loyal, throughout the whole ordeal.

"Okay, last question. Anyone?" Winston offered. This time, at long last, no one raised a hand. "Then we're done. Meeting adjourned."

"Ugh, _finally_!" Tina groaned, throwing her head back as most of the others stood up. Genji chuckled beside her.

"Not fond of team meetings?" he asked.

"Dude, how do you put up with this?" Tina asked incredulously. "It's so _stupid_!"

"It is an unfortunate necessity," Genji said calmly. "If there are no plans, then we would accomplish nothing."

"Whatever," Tina snorted. "Hey, Greenie, you want to go a few rou—"

"Genji!" Tracer suddenly whizzed up to them. "You up for some sparring practice?"

Tina scowled at her indignantly, but Genji spoke before she could open her mouth.

"Of course," the cyborg replied. "You are the only one I have trouble keeping up with."

"What?!" Tina balked. "Come on, I can give you a better run for your money than Goofy Goggles here can!"

"What's that about my goggles?" Tracer frowned, picking the aforementioned accessory off of her head and examining it.

"Tina, I've been able to throw you onto the floor no less than five times every time we spar," Genji explained flatly. "You _are_ getting better each time, but—"

"So I'm not good enough, now?!" Tina snarled. "First you people trick me into being your goon, and now you tell me I'm not good enough for you?!"

Winston raised a hand to interject. "Um, Tina? Let's just calm down and—"

"SCREW OFF, FUZZBALL!" Tina roared.

"Tina, that's enough out of you!" Ana snapped. "If you can't behave like a civilized—"

Tina simply shot her elder a rude finger gesture before storming out of the room. "Stupid, stuck-up, controlling, arrogant…"

"Tina!" Ana called, but the girl was already gone. "Ugh, what is that girl's problem?"

"Ah, she simply has a fiery spirit!" Reinhardt laughed. "Of course bureaucracy is going to bore her silly!"

"I swear, my hair is going to turn positively white from all her outbursts," Ana shook her head. "What have we done to deserve this treatment? We've given her the best food and shelter we can, but that just isn't enough for her."

Genji looked over to her. "Then, perhaps we should make her feel like part of a family, and not a conscript?"

Ana opened her mouth to object, but stopped when she realized whose statement she would be objecting to. She paused.

"I…suppose it's true that I've been a bit short with her as of late," the sniper admitted after a moment.

"I think we've _all_ been a little on edge after what happened at Volskaya," Tracer added with a solemn tone far removed from her typical bubbly cheer.

Ana nodded. "Maybe it's time we address the problems closer to home before we look to the ones outside."

* * *

"Next."

The screen flickered to a love drama between a human woman and a masculine Omnic.

"Boring. Next."

The scene now showed a collection of scientists facing an unusually large tornado as it shredded through a populated city.

"Seen it, hated it. Next."

Now the screen displayed a party of Omnics dancing wildly.

"Stupid idea. Next."

" _May I take this opportunity to remind you that I am not a television remote?_ "

Tina rolled her eyes at Athena's statement, spreading her limbs out as she slouched across the sofa. The wide-screen television before her had shown countless forms of entertainment, each one failing to meet the street urchin's standards.

"I need to get _some_ use out of you if you're going to stick around and bug me," Tina snorted.

" _I would also like to mention that the films 'Love, Hacktually', 'Hero of my Storm', and 'Some Like it Bot' all received outstanding ratings of—_ "

"I really don't give a shit, lady," Tina groaned. "Just change the damn channel."

"… _Acknowledged_."

Overwatch's AI complied, changing the channel once more. This time, two cowboys-one with four additional arms accompanying the standard two-stood almost a mile apart, facing one another with hands hovering dangerously over their holstered guns. Tina raised an eyebrow.

"Which one's this?" she asked.

" _The title is 'Six-Gun Killer',_ " Athena replied.

"Let's keep it for a bit," Tina shrugged. "Might get interesting."

It seemed like an eternity before the gunslingers even twitched. The sun slowly peeked over the horizon. The camera zoomed in on the six-armed gunslinger's face as his eye shifted to observe the sunrise.

" _Well,_ " the gunslinger remarked, " _it's high noon somewhere in the world._ "

"So _that's_ where McCree got it from!"

Tina barely had time to look around before Tracer flopped into the sofa beside her. "Who the hell invited you?"

"Communal TV, love!" Tracer chirped. "What're we watching?"

" _I'm_ watching a movie," Tina growled. " _You're_ gonna do whatever timey-wimey crap you do when you're not getting on my case."

"Aw, come on, Tina!" Tracer frowned. "You don't need to put on the tough girl act all the time. I know we're not exactly your first choice in company, but we're all friends here."

"Just shut it and let me watch my movie."

"How about we try to find something we can both like watching, huh?" Tracer suggested. "Oi, Athena? Could you show us what's on channel seven?"

"Hey! I said I didn't want—!" Tina attempted to protest, but Athena had already changed the channel. Her only response at this point was to tightly fold her arms and fume.

"Oh, no way! Wicked!" Tracer's eyes went wide. "I totally forgot about this year's Summer Games!"

Tina blinked. "This year's what?"

"You've never heard of the Summer Games?" Tracer looked at her as if a set of writhing, slime-covered appendages had emerged from Tina's eye sockets. "Ohhh, you're gonna be in for a treat, love! It's a smashing time!"

Tina harrumphed and turned her scowl to the Summer Games on screen. Whether they were "smashing" or not, they were certainly a spectacle. Dozens of men, women, Omnics, and more filed into a massive arena packed to bursting with screaming spectators. Every individual present, at least the ones down in the arena itself rather than the stands, seemed to be wearing an outfit referencing—if not outright copying—a particular country's flag.

"Ooh, we're in Sydney this year!" an awestruck Tracer remarked. "See, the Summer Games are when the best athletes from all over the world—sometimes with a special guest or two—get together to compete for prizes!"

The once halfway-interested Tina suddenly perked up. "What prizes?"

"The top three athletes in each sport get medals that show off how well they've done," Tracer explained, her eyes intermittently darting towards Tina between sessions of drinking in the Games. "Third place gets bronze, second gets silver, and the winner in first place—the athlete who does the best—gets to go home with the gold!"

If Tracer said anything after that, it was little more than buzzing in Tina's ears now. What held her attention was _gold_. Gold to show off with pride, letting the world know that whoever was awarded that medal meant business. Gold to trade for goods and services, for things that were out of a street-dwelling pickpocket's reach but enjoyed by those who could actually afford them. Gold to—

"Tina! Oi, Tina, look! Look!" Tracer chattered, waving an arm around and repeatedly prodding Tina's shoulder. "Look! It's Thunderstrike!"

The street urchin squinted at the screen, and indeed, the camera eventually panned across a well-built man whose body was almost entirely clad in spandex. Rather than the typical electric blue of his outfit, however, Thunderstrike—the wandering warrior straight out of a comic book—had been replaced by a crimson shade emblazoned with blue-and-white crosses making him resemble the Norwegian flag. In place of his typical white scarf was, in true superhero fashion, a snow-white cape bearing the symbol of the Summer Games themselves: a fountain divided into red, blue, and green thirds.

"We should totally cheer for him, love!" Tracer suggested, her smile practically consuming her face as Thunderstrike waved to the audience.

"Why?" Tina snorted.

Tracer gave her another funny look. "Uh…because he's our friend?"

"He's not my friend," Tina harrumphed. "He's just some old douche who took me to cool places once. That's it."

"Still speaking poorly of your elders, I see," another voice observed. Tina whipped around in her spot to find Ana taking a seat beside her on the couch. "My goodness, is it time for the Summer Games already?"

"I know, right?!" Tracer almost squealed. "I mean, just look at all these great athletes—OOH, TINA, LOOK! The Angel of Victory!"

Tina raised an eyebrow as, on screen, a woman in a white-and-blue toga took center stage. After taking a moment to adjust the laurel wreath atop her head, the woman presented a golden chalice bearing a live flame, holding it as high as she could for all to see. This simple action drove the crowd wild with elation, a sentiment echoed by Tracer's wide eyes and ear-to-ear grin of admiration. Even Ana threw in a subdued smile of her own.

"…I don't get it," Tina said flatly.

"What don't you understand?" Ana asked.

"Like, who's this bimbo in white? What's with the torch? What's she even doing?"

"It's part of the opening ceremony, where a chosen person dresses up as a figure from Greek mythology and—as per tradition—offers the games to the gods in hopes of receiving their blessing," Ana explained. She looked over to Tina. "You're from Greece, aren't you? I would have thought you'd know more about this, being from the place the Olympics were founded."

"You people are the ones who have all the answers, right?" Tina spat.

"Guys, stop fighting!" Tracer interjected. "The first event's coming up!"

The scene before them changed, now showing a grassy field with two holographic nets—one blue and one orange—on opposing sides. Three athletes took their positions by each goal, Thunderstrike finding a place amongst the blue team.

" _And now, ladies and gentlemen,_ " the announcer began, " _it's time to amp it up! Our first event today is none other than…_ "

"LÚCIOBAALLLLL!" Tracer squealed in tandem with the announcer. "Oh, my God! You know this sport was named after this superstar musician? And Thunderstrike's competing! Oh, this is gonna be so cool!"

Tina studied the field for a moment. There was a rather sizeable ball sitting in the dead center. The idea, if what she knew of sports in general could be applied to this "Lúcioball", would be to get the ball past the opposing team and into the goal. Despite Thunderstrike's notoriously theatrical presence, Tina suspected that the participants were _not_ allowed to harm or even hinder one another in any way beyond taking away the ball. Fair play was what ruled here.

So Tina just shrugged. "Meh."

"What do you mean 'meh'?!" Tracer balked. "We're watching Thunderstrike play Lúcioball, _live_ _on television_! How is this not awesome to you?!"

"Well, maybe her mind is someplace else," Ana added with a knowing smile. "I know I certainly see a lot of good-looking young men down there."

Tina did a double-take. "Ew, no! What the hell have you been putting in your tea, hag?"

Ana shrugged. "Women, then?"

"Ugh, _no_!"

"Oh, come now," Ana rolled her sole good eye. "Do you actually mean to tell me that a young girl like yourself isn't interested in even _one_ of these athletes?"

"Not like _that_ , dammit!" Tina protested. "What the hell are you even asking?!"

"Calm down, child," Ana sighed. "I just find it strange that you wouldn't be interested. I know when I was your age, I had a fair few crushes of my own."

"Good for you," Tina snorted. "I don't."

"Maybe you just haven't found the right person," Ana suggested.

"Or maybe I'm tired of how you butt into my business, hag!" Tina snapped.

"Guys!" Tracer yelled. The two other women stopped arguing for a moment, allowing Tracer to sigh. "Look, can we just watch the Games? What Tina's into is her business, even if we want to help her find someone to be with."

Ana frowned, but ultimately nodded. "…I suppose you're right. I apologize."

Tina blinked; relenting was not something the hag usually did. Rather than pursue the issue, however, she followed Ana and Tracer's eyes back to the screen. Thunderstrike and his fellow athletes carried out their game of Lúcioball, with the superhero's team scoring an early lead. Eventually, Thunderstrike thrust his foot forward in a mighty kick, launching the ball over the opposing team's heads and into their goal. With that final shot, the blue team achieved victory, triggering a celebratory burst of fireworks in the sapphire sky above them.

"WOO-HOO!" Tracer cheered, leaping out of her seat. "Go, Thunderstrike! Man, that was a great game!"

Ana smiled, nodding in agreement. Tina barely seemed to be paying attention, wearing a contemplative face. Tracer flopped back down on the couch, grinning as widely as ever.

Then Tina spoke up. "…you know how I said I'm not into boys or girls?"

Ana blinked, looking over to her. "Yes?"

Tina pursed her lips. "…I mean more like…they don't turn me on. _No one_ turns me on, not even some of the boys I used to run with. Like, the other girls I hung out with would always talk about how cute or hot this big shot model is, but when I look, I just…don't see it. I don't see hotness when I look at a guy, I don't see hotness when I look at a girl…I don't even know why, I just don't. It's weird."

Tracer smiled. "That's okay, love. We're all a little different. I mean, just look at us: I'm into girls, Ana's into guys…Winston's into peanut butter," she added with a giggle. "Anyway, point is: if you're asexual, we're totally okay with that. And you should be, too."

"I agree," Ana smiled as well. Then, her expression grew more serious. "Tina…I realize we may seem a bit overbearing at times."

"Just a 'bit'?" Tina snorted.

"May I finish, please?" Ana sighed. "What I'm trying to say is that being a family involves a lot of give-and-take, learning and growing. And, if you're willing to travel the world and help us make it a better place…we'd be happy to have you as part of our family."

But Tina frowned. "I don't want you people as my family. I want my old family back. My friends."

"I know, child," Ana nodded solemnly. "I long for days past, myself. But, those days are over, and we need to make do with what we have now."

Tracer put a hand on Tina's shoulder. "Just give us a chance, love. You might even have more fun with us than you did with your old friends!"

"Don't hold your breath," Tina harrumphed, folding her arms again.

Ana shook her head, but turned her gaze back to the Summer Games. More events were coming up: track and field, archery, weightlifting, and more. Tina wasn't quite sure how many of them would hold her interest, especially considering that she was only _watching_ the games.

Then a thought struck her. "How do I get in on these Games?"

"Aw, that's a brilliant idea!" Tracer cried. "Cap, we should totally enter next year's Summer Games! Just picture it: me, Tina, Genji…we'd bring back a bunch of gold medals!"

"I don't think we're quite in a state where we would be welcome in the Summer Games," Ana chuckled. "But, who knows? Perhaps, by next year, Overwatch will be in better standing with the world. And it would be a good public relations move." She looked over to Tina. "You should bring that up with Winston. I think he'd love that idea."

"If it'll get you people off my back for five frigging minutes," Tina grumbled.

"We'll see," Ana chuckled. "Oh, the next event's coming up. Track and field, Lena! Your favorite!"

Tracer's joy went through the roof, especially when she saw Thunderstrike taking a place amongst the runners. Tina, meanwhile, tilted her head to the side and looked on. As much as she detested Overwatch and its people, she couldn't help but feel a little different now. Maybe her whims and desires weren't _completely_ reviled by Overwatch. Maybe she had something in common with this band of soldiers, scientists, adventurers, and oddities.

Maybe it wouldn't kill her to give this new family the chance they wanted.

* * *

 **And there we go. A short little piece, but I figured it was time that Tina finally got some focus. If this is your first time reading something from the Effect series, and you'd like to read more, I encourage you to take a look at the previous installments, where you'll get some background for the bigger picture and get to know more of the characters involved. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read (especially if you're a recurring reader; I imagine I sound like a broken record by this point, but I've seen things that have made me wary of fandoms, so any continuous support is immensely appreciated), and I hope you enjoy the future installments!**


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